Haloed by Sue Coletta

Author:Sue Coletta
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: serial killer, new hampshire new england, kidnapping torture terror, stalking abduction
Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing

Chapter Thirty-Two

11 p.m.

While Frankie hammered in bright orange flags to mark the location of evidence, indicating to her team what to photograph, collect, and log, forensic personnel arrived on the scene. Once she squared them away, bringing them up to speed on the crime scene and what-not, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the second-story windows. Each time they drew her attention she fought to concentrate on the job and not on Ozzy and what he might be doing in her bedroom. She also prayed he stayed out of sight. If even one of her fellow deputies or an overzealous patrol officer caught her glances, she might arouse suspicion.

How did she let Oz talk her into staying here?

In her defense, Mad Dog was the one dude everybody feared, with his unpredictability, psychopathic nature, and hatred for the badge—even if that badge came with spiked heels, a thick wavy mane, and a killer outfit. If Frankie was honest with herself, she did feel safer with a badass biker in the house. Not that she’d ever tell him that. Still, she knew better than to let anybody determine her fate. But Oz made a lot of sense, considering Mad Dog wasn’t allowed to make a move with a fully-fledged club member around.

If only the mutt hadn’t used her property as a dumpsite.

Beyond the deck, Ben hovered over the fire pit, poking debris with a stick. He acted downright obsessed about something. What fascinated him to this level, she had no idea.

In seconds Frankie closed the gap between them. “What’re you doing? Niko told you to canvass the neighborhood with Bradley.”

“I am. I mean, I did. The lady in the blue house next door said she saw flames out her bathroom window last night.”

“No shit, genius. That was me.”

“Really? Huh.” He paused as though he didn’t buy the excuse. “Why would you have a fire last night of all nights?”

Did he say last night, not yesterday afternoon? “What time did she say she saw these alleged flames?”

“Alleged?” Ben studied her like a suspect in the box. “Around midnight. Why?”

Midnight? She scowled at her bedroom window. Tit bit nipply, my ass. Oz lit that fire so the freshly burned wood in the pit wouldn’t draw unwanted attention. But how would he know the mutt would hang a corpse from her tree? Unless he was trying to cover up one of his dirty deeds. What did he burn in the firepit?

Ben’s stare drilled a hole in her temple. “I think it was closer to ten or ten-thirty,” she lied, “but yeah, still me.”

“Yeah? That’s odd.” Disturbing the contents within the white stoned border, Ben leaned forward. “Why would you have a fire in single-degree temps?”

“None of your damn business, that’s why. Do I ask how you spend your personal time?”

“Huh.” Ignoring her, Ben squinted at the debris in the left side of the pit. “Looks like burnt cloth of some kind. Were you burning old clothes by any chance?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous.”

With the stick, he raised a swath of scorched fabric.

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